


Tonight

by Xenobotanist



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Feels, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e21 The Die Is Cast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: Garak returns from the disaster with Odo and Tain in the Gamma Quadrant, and goes to Julian.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, forgot I was sitting on this one.

Julian and Garak had been seeing each other for going on a year now. Well, seeing each other for lunches and occasional sleepovers. Nothing serious.

But tonight, something was different.

Garak had arrived back at the station in the company of Odo, both of them haggard and charred, and the operative’s normally guarded, unflappable mask had been barely left intact. 

He’d come straight to Julian after a shower and his debriefing with Captain Sisko, and explained what had happened during the fiasco, or at least parts of it.

He mentioned that Enabran Tain, his mentor from the Obsidian Order, had formed an alliance with the Tal Shiar and attempted to attack the Founders in the Gamma Quadrant. That he invited Garak to come out of exile and join him.

That Tain’s Romulan contact was actually a changeling, and the whole thing was a trap from the start.

That now Enabran Tain was dead, his ship blown up in a brutal attack. And Garak’s chance for redemption in the eyes of Cardassia was dead with him.

Garak said it all quietly, matter-of-factly over dinner, while Julian listened in rapt attention. 

Of course there were things he had to be leaving out; that was a given. 

But it seemed as if some taut string had been cut. Like Garak was floating free and unsure of where the currents would drag him.

He hadn’t even mentioned dessert. 

As soon as the meal was finished, he stood up from his seat, and Julian did too, mirroring his movements. They slowly drew together next to the table and wound up in each other's arms.

The first few moments began fervently and desperately, an echo of their first few trysts before they fell into the rhythm and pattern of two partners who have become comfortable with one another. 

But it slowed and mellowed quickly, long drawn-out open-mouthed kisses with tongues sliding sensually in and out, with tasting and caresses that they rarely let themselves indulge in these days.

They’d performed a leisurely dance to the bedroom, shedding clothes as they went.

By the time they reached the bed, they were both completely naked, and it was the first time Julian got to see Garak in his entirety. He’d seen every part at one point or another, but never all at once, and he wished he could take the time to appreciate the view. But he was already being dragged under the blankets and covered by the gray, scaly, and ridged body, several degrees cooler than his own but just as amorous.

Every touch was longer and more gentle than any before, every sound softer and breathier. Julian wondered at the change, grateful for the new level of intimacy, but worried, too, about the underlying cause of Garak’s new behavior.

As the heat started to rise between them, they paused, and Garak stared down at him so intently and longingly that Julian thought they might finally come together face to face.

But then he was urged onto his front, and he acquiesced, pulling a pillow under himself to squeeze against his chest. 

In an uncharacteristic change of habit, Garak lifted his hips so that he could reach around and take Julian in hand as he entered. His movements were slow and measured, tight but almost tender as he worked the human phallus in all the right ways. He kissed Julian’s back a few times and mouthed over the backbone as he slid his way inside, one intense centimeter at a time. When they were fully joined he stopped for a moment, and lay his head down between Julian’s shoulders, cheek cool over the fevered human skin.

Stretched and filled, Julian waited patiently.

Garak’s hand moved first, stroking up and down, tugging toward the mattress and thumbing over his tip almost absently. 

When he finally began his thrusts, they were light and short, barely leaving Julian’s body at all. But they gradually lengthened out until they were both rocking forward and backward in tandem but at a counterpoint.

Julian began to whimper at the treatment, wanting more, faster, harder. But the moment he reached down to take himself in hand for at least a little relief, Garak grabbed his wrist and held it away from their bodies. He pushed in deeply, as far as he could go, and halted again. 

Julian clenched his rear, tightened his muscles to feel every bump and ridge of the organ inside him. “Garak…” he pleaded. 

Suddenly he was empty.

Startled, he craned his neck to see what was happening. Garak was studying his face again. The next thing he knew, he was being turned onto his back for a more direct stare. 

Garak almost never spoke during these encounters, preferring the plain simplicity of physical release without complications, but tonight he tilted his head in thought, and said something that Julian had longed to hear for some time now. “Julian, please call me Elim.”

This _was_ different.

“Of course, Elim.” There was more that he wanted to say, volumes more, but he was aware of the rare privilege that had been afforded him, and knew that for whatever reason, tonight’s secrets--and revelations--belonged to Elim. 

They came together again, this time chest to chest with Julian’s hips propped up on the pillow, heels digging into the mattress for leverage with every rise and fall. 

It was still slow, still delicate, almost frail. 

Garak came long before Julian was ready, puffing out a surprised exhalation in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

They separated, and Julian resigned himself to rolling over to his half of the bed per usual for another night lying together but not touching, until he was drawn closer to Garak, dragged languidly against his chest and stomach. Their lengths matching and curved into spooning crescents, Garak’s hand returned to its previous endeavor and pumped passionately until Julian at last came too.

He felt a kiss on his neck, a nuzzle under his hair.

Something had changed.

Julian wiggled deeper into the embrace and entwined his fingers with Garak’s, even wet and sticky as they were. He could feel the muscles in the body behind him gradually ease and relax, untensing almost one at a time.

For the first time ever, Garak was the first one to fall asleep.

Julian lay there in the dark, marveling at what had transpired, hoping against hope that it wasn’t just a one-time thing, that there would be more nights like this one: sweet and poignant, unhurried and close. 

He wondered if there were some way he could address it without Garak shuttering up, if he could inspire enough trust for the Cardassian to be vulnerable with him.

He doubted it.

But then, he’d never thought that they’d ever progress beyond lunches and they had, never thought they’d become sexually involved, but they did. 

He mulled over what hold Tain had maintained over Garak, that was now released.

And vowed never to put such constraints on the tailor himself. 

But for now…

For now, he’d enjoy the scales and skin pressed into his, the breathing of his serene companion at rest, and bask in the knowledge that whatever happened in the future, whatever this had been, the memory of tonight would always be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I made any mistakes from "The Die is Cast."


End file.
